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THE DEATH OF 
MAID McCREA 



/ 



BY 



O. C. AURINGER 

Author of ''''Heart of the Golden Roan,'' ''fVm. McKinley,^ 

'■'The Road Builders," '^ Friendship' s Crown 

of Verse,'' etc., etc. 




BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 
IQOQ 



Copyright, 1909, by O. C. Auringer 
All Rights Reserved 



THE GORHAM PRESS, BOSTON, U. S. A. 



G(.A2533f:5 



DEDICATION 

TO THE DAUGHTERS OF THE 
AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

THESE TWIN TRAGEDIES 

ARE DEDICATED BY 

THE AUTHOR 

1909 



THE DEATH OF MAID McCREA 



THE DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

(SAMUEL STANDISH, NARRATOR) 

We left the camp behind us colled in sleep, 
And moved with quiet footfalls to the plain. 
We paused a moment at the sentry's hail, 
And answering passed on. We left the road. 
The broad way from the fortress trailing 

north, 
And fell in file along a slender path 
That ribbonded the plain and river-marsh, 
O'erwaved a mount with shaggy growths 

bespread 
And crowned with pines and silence, spinning 

thence 
Still forth amid the wildwood's tangled 

glooms. 
On to a ruined blockhouse on the hill. 
There lay thei ground we were to seize and 

keep 
From scout or foray of our lion foe 
Crouched in a thorny jungle in the north. 

A score of men we were, armed woodman-like 
With musket, knife and hatchet, — every one 
A soul well seasoned in the storms of war — 
Sons of the sword, ambitious for the task — 
Led by a dark lieutenant, silent, stern. 
But oaken-souled and loved by every man, 

9 



10 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

The trustiest in the camp. With scarce a 

sound 
We moved in line along the narrow path, 
Dipped from the plain and pierced the river- 
marsh, 
And steeped in moonshine and hot airs of 

night. 
Set knees against the black acclivity, 
And gave ourselves to that wild wilderness. 

We climbed the steep ascent with guns atrail, 
Picking our steps amid the roots and stones 
That lurked along the pathway. As wc 

moved, 
A trailing breech, with mischievous intent 
Would greet aloud some object on the way, 
Sending a sudden thrill along the file; 
And oft again some imp-inveigled foot 
Would slip and bring a soldier to his knee, 
Or send him reeling sidelong from the path. 
Mayhap to catch and cling by shrub or limb 
And sway his body back in line again, 
And onward as before. And presently 
A man would stop stock-still adown the file, 
Smote in the face by some lithe hazel rod 
That, bent unwillingly and springing back, 
Stung like a whip. Then would an oath 

break forth — 
Strangled at birth; and followed in its turn 
A laugh or joke in cautious undertones 
At his expense who suffered from the blow — 
Danger just seasoned with a spice of fun. 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA ii 

And no one made the worse, so all was still. 
For we were men trained not to utter sound 
Above necessity when foes were nigh 
Like those that girt us now. 

Above the plain 
Two mounts arose — steps of titanic stairs 
Leading to nothing, cancelling the wild 
And wondrous star-blown spaces of the 

North. 
And on the foremost couched a narrow plot 
By jealous spirits stolen from the wilds. 
Gone bare of trees, but richly carpeted 
With soft green moss and silent. And it lay 
Kept three sides round with spears of hazel- 
wood 
Enwoven in a wild vine's running skein. 
And dark beside its brink an aged pine 
Rose huge amid the blackness, and on high 
Parting, held forth a magic canopy, 
Mysterious o'er the moss-hushed forest floor. 
And down amid his roots a virgin spring 
Trembling and shy broke through the leaves 

and moss, 
Hung wavering In the shadow for a space. 
Then fled In pearl and silver down the slope. 

This was the ancient pine, and this the 

spring, 
And here the spot renowned In all the world. 
And here we halted breathing hard; and 

here, 



12 DE/\TH OF MAID McCREA 

With studied charge and order from the 

chief — 
A message out of darkness in the ear — 
I took my place beside the aged pine 
To watch till morning; and my friends filed 

on, 
Vague bulks in darkness streaming o'er the 

plot, 
Along the dim and vanishing ascent, 
Forth to the ancient blockhouse on the hill. 
A long and lonesome watch beside that tree — 
Long watch and lonesome; wide in darkness 

spread 
The night-lone lanscape round and far 

away — 
A wilderness gone dreaming, with the moon, 
Stars, silent-pacing clouds and stealthy airs 
Alert above it. And beneath, alert. 
Their fellow guard and watchman of the 

night, 
I with my weapon and a lonely heart, 
But willingly, kept uncomplaining hours. 
For manly honor's sake, and liberty. 
The night hung slumberous, yet one must 

keep 
His senses mustered round him^ — no clear 

task 
With naught to keep him wakeful but to 

watch — 
Just watch and wait the sluggish moments 

through 
And listen. And to venture past the bounds, 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 13 

The plot prescribed of safe and level ground, 
To move about and feel oneself at large — 
Forbidden grace ! To make companionship 
With one's own pleasant inner impulses 
By singing songs as soldiers love to do, 
Or whistling to call up the merry thoughts 
To charm an idle watch — most perilous ! 
Our foes were wary ears on every side, 
Fear figured armed warriors in the oaks, 
And shaped fantastic foemen from the rocks. 
And made the light leaves turning In their 

dreams 
Seem to the ear a gliding Indian's tread. 

A soldier's mind hoards small philosophy 

Among his treasures, woo It as he will; 

A life of shocks breaks up the course of 

thought 
And checks It midway. Contemplation, shy. 
Recluse and sensitive, starts from the sound 
Of war's on-coming murmur militant. 
And at roar of his impetuous rush 
Gathers her things about her daintily 
And vanishes; — guard! Is the soldier's watch- 
word! 
And yet he has his fancies, often sweet. 
Dreams dreams and has ambitions of his own, 
Most welcome, though so oft they come to 

naught. 
He has his store of stirring memories 
Laid up through years of strange vicissitude, 
Of camps and marches, roaring battle fields, 



14 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Shipwrecks at sea, disasters on the shore, 
Perils, escapeS' — all memorable things 
To lighten up the long hours of a watch. 
All these my mind tossed o'er, then fled away, 
Heart-piloted beyond the wilderness, 
And visited beside the Eastern sea 
A humble fisher-town 'twixt sands and crags 
Withdrawn apart — a butt for bluff sea winds. 
And salt-sharp storms flung inland from the 

main. 
There stood a house I knew of, with its door 
Laid open to the tossed sea waves, with sand, 
And wreck and waste of many a stormy tide 
Thrown near it. And I saw upon the beach 
My three sweet motherless children hard at 

With all their little sea-things ; fairy boats, 
Laden with fairy thoughts imaginative, 
Launched bravely from their hands with 

mingled cries 
Of hope and apprehension; — '*See, she 

floats!" 
"She's down, she's gone ! — Nay, there she 

comes again !" 
"How sweetly she sails on now ! We will call 
Her name The Lucky Sailor, for good luck!" 
And then they wave their hands and cry in the 

wind — 
"Luck to the Lucky Sailor!" o'er the foam. 

Back flashed my thought, and then forth out 
of earth, 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 15 

Or visionary starlight, airy space, 
Or fairyland of beauty, none knows where, 
A phantom face rose softly on my sight 
Glimpsed in an air ideal, like a star; 
More rare for loveliness than eye beholds 
Ever amid this solemn loneliness 
Forsakeni of fair things. And it appeared 
Arrayed for wonder and magnificence 
In one long living garment of bright hair. 
Like that which waves 'mid webs of charmed 

romance, 
Magical tales and legends all forlorn 
Imagined in old time, to net the heart, 
And draw it happy captive through the talc. 
And then my lips obedient spoke aloud 
A name in the darkness, with such vehemence 
As made me start alarmed, and throw around 
Eyes apprehensive. But the loyal night. 
Darkly discreet, gave not the sound away 
To alien senseless ears. It was a name 
Since famous in the annals of the land. 
Which heard it cried round its circumference 
Till it became a charm to conjure with, 
A watchword and a symbol on men's tongues; 
Even till a banner blazoned with that name. 
And borne from town to town throughout the 

land. 
By close accord might gather to itself 
How many a thousand gallant hearts and 

swords 
Pledged to the height of heavenly sacrifice 
For love's fair sake, and country's liberty. 



1 6 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

And In that name what individual acts 
Have been accomplished! I have known the 

soul 
Lukewarm in hope and courage take quick 

fire, 
And burn to noble death beneath its spell. 
And I have known the base and dissolute, 
The wretch that fought for plunder, harden- 
ed men^ — 
Cold soldiers by profession, noisy spirits. 
Burlesques of heroes, lions in the camp 
And lambs in battle, — I have known all these 
To change their very nature at that name, 
And in the day of opportunity 
Prove heroes all, and terrible in fight. 
Heap fame and honor and proud victory 
Upon themselves and country! 

But these things 
Were yet unknown, unborni; the burning deed 
Yet lingered that would consecrate that name, 
Baptize it in warm blood, and send it forth 
On its miraculous mission through the world. 
That name? — What name sings sweetest in 

our ears 
And lingers, save the name of Maid McCrea? 

But by-and-by the morning ! 'Twas the pipe 
Of bird, I think, that first announced the 

dawn 
From some near tree — a loud and buoyant 

strain, 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 17 

Clear-resonant, as If the dear musician 
Had captured some keen courier-note of dawn 
And flung it forth in glory as bright news. 
And at that sound pipe after pipe broke forth 
Voluptuous from that hill of harmony, 
Until a thousand rapturous throats were 

strained 
To hail the coming banners of the dawn. 
And then came morning marching slowly, 

slowly, 
Up o'er the land. 

Low down along the plain 
Reposed the fortress ramparts coiled in dusk, 
Beside whose hillocks rolled the Hudson's 

stream 
Pouring with all his thousands from the hills, 
With rustle and murmur of his million feet. 
He moved unseen beneath the ghostly 

stream 
Of flowing vapor shadowing his march 
Far on into the southland like a dream. 

But broader burned the red along the east. 
And fainter waxed the veil that dimmed the 

wood. 
As swept the light to westward o'er the 

world ; 
It touched the hills and they arose, unmasked, 
And beamed afar with genial visages, 
And in a moment o'er the wilderness 



1 8 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Flushed the broad sun ! a swimming fount 

of fire 
That poured its streams across the solitudes 
Till glory kindled to their utmost bounds. 
His rays dissolved the mists along the 

stream, 
And set the water sparkling; gilt the sands, 
Hung webs of golden gauze about the hills. 
And woke anew the music of the birds 
In thicket deep and treetop everywhere — 
O 'twas a sight worth one long watch to see. 
That world-old battle of the day with night, 
Wherein the day is glorious conqueror. 
And I remembmer how I stood and drank 
My fill of that fresh fountain all alive, 
Till all my heart pronounced the thing divine ! 

A distant drum-pulse throbbing from the 

plain 
And chiming with my heart-pulse pleasantly, 
O'erspilled the cup of rapture in my soul. 
It ceased, — a curl fantastic of fierce smoke 
Gushed forth a sudden cloud upon the plain, 
And out the fort spoke through its early 

gun, 
Telling the world of morning. And the 

sound, 
Recoiling, passed and fell among the hills 
Crashing; as when a storm-cloud from the 

west 
Discharges its first volley o'er the earth, 
Rending the ancient stillness of the woods. 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 19 

Making the heart leap up In beast and man, 
While all the trees a bashful silence keep 
In all their leaves. And then in mimicry 
A hundred echoes seizing on the theme 
Ran babbling It the greenwood arches 

through, 
Hither and thither flying through the wilds, 
With voices blowing ever faint and fainter, 
Far off and farther, dying on the airs 
That breathed from out the solitudes. 

For me, 
Yet one long hour before relief would come. 
I leaned upon my weapon and looked down 
Upon the narrow vista of the plain. 
Where war had drawn some furrows of light 

soil 
And planted them with cannon. There had 

men 
Built for themselves rude homes in which to 

dwell 
And till their narrow slips of yellow earth. 
And hunt and fish and barter, nested there 
Beneath the fostering pinions of the fort, — 
Each cottage with its tributary lawn, 
Beds of rare roses, yellow marigolds. 
And lilacs shadowing doorways with their 

green. 
Their blooms now fallen ; still where friendly 

birds 
All summer sang and nested 'mid their 

boughs. 

t 



20 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

And there were people moving In my sight 
About their morning tasks — a pleasant thing, 
As I remember how it moved me then, — 
Some gleaning wood to start their early fires. 
And some with yoke and bucket and long 

toil 
Who brought fresh water from the river's 

brink. 
Or drove their cattle forth amid the dew 
To some deep forest pasture out of sight. 
And over and beyond, a pigmy crew, 
Ridiculous in distance as they moved 
On errands lost to all but conscious eyes, 
My camp-mates and companions in the war, 
A few from oft their banquet-board of sand 
Quaffing their early dram of heavenly air; 
Half-naked gunners on the parapets. 
Toiling away like demons in the fire 
Of the red sun ; and creeping on his post 
The drowsy sentinel — gun and bayonet 
Molten to fire and splendor as he turned; 
Or servants from the stables leading forth 
With halters slack the train of thirsty beasts 
To water, where the river lapped the sand. 
And I remember, too, most humanly. 
How good the cookhouse smoke seemed to 

my eyes, 
And how the thoughts of breakfast cheered 

me up, 
And all the genial messroom company 
One has in barracks. 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 21 

But beholding these 
I saw not all the vision of the time; 
And truly such a wealthy-hearted morning 
Was pledge enough of fairer things to come 
Than homely-woven scenes with villagers 
Slow shuttling through; or stuff of fireier 

grain 
Embossed with pictures of armed battle- 
ments 
And warlike figures; — something for a crown 
Of this fair morning kingdom in the land. 
O happy eyes to see that pledge fulfilled ! 
O prosperous time! For on the glimmering 

hem 
Of the gay forest robe that clothed the camp, 
A something, charmed with airy grace and 

motion. 
Something akin to sunrise and fresh dews 
And winds and blowing roses of the wilds — 
A gleam of morning — crossed my longing 

sight 
Borne lightly onward. It was where the 

waves, 
Penned In a cove that balked their onward 

rush, 
Like sheep pressed in confusion and complain- 
ed, 
Striking the sand and shrinking In recoil. 
Pressing back on their fellows timidly. 
As if they feared to tread the shining sands 
That knew their footprints through unnum- 
bered years. 



22 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

I saw It break the shadow of the wood, 
And dawn another sunrise on the camp, 
Just touching It In passing. Where the fort 
Thrust out a threatening angle toward the 

stream, 
Its fairy-woven footsteps met the path — 
The way our feet had taken — wafted on 
Across the meadows, like a morning cloud 
Dewing the earth behind it as it goes. 
I watched it hushed, as one so often will, 
Who stands and cranes his neck and holds his 

breath 
To note the outcome of some ventured guess 
As if 'twere life or death. And so my heart 
Held wager with my eyes who this might be 
Coming so lightly. 'Twas a woman's shape 
Coming so sweetly ! — sight in soldier's eyes 
Most prized of all In this great wilderness 
Because so rare and transient. 

''It Is 
she!" 
Some influence runs before and cries rejoic- 
ing, — 
Some courier of the heart — "Yes, it Is she!" 
And the eye answers — "Nay, It Is not she! 
The gay apparel, the unstately pace. 
The unseemly season — 'tis some other she !" 
But meanwhile like that cloud she floated on. 
And came unto a cabin reared of logs 
Piled roughly in their bark, and covered o'er 
With faded forest branches. Low It stood 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 23 

Amid the outmost circle of rude homes, 
A humble little dwelling, with its door 
Swung open to the morning, and a curl 
Of friendly smoke above its chimney stack. 
And to the door the maid of morning came 
And knocked. And from the dwelling came 

a dame 
Of fair and liberal port, and courteously 
Took by the hand the early visitant 
And led her in — a robber of my right! 
They passed away from sight, but ere they 

went, 
A curl of laughter floated up to me 
Upon the air of morning sweetly borne. 
And then my heart laid claim upon my eyes 
For one more wager won ! And it was true, 
Even as my heart had said ! And this was she. 
The famous, lovely, luckless Maid McCrea, 
Whose face had set such martial hearts 

aflame. 
Whose mournful fate has set the world on 

fire ! 
And I was glad at heart to have her near, 
And thanked the sunny morning in my soul, 
Blessed the soft airs, the odors of the wood. 
Rejoiced in all the summer-nested scene 
With forms of fellow men, so much her pres- 
ence 
Gladdened the glittering world. . . . 

But 

suddenly 
All pleasure died within me as my soul, 



24 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

By some mysterious Instinct like a hound, 
Caught a fleet scent of evil in the air, 
Far off or hovering. Ah, what airy dream, 
What sweet unwisdom had enticed her forth 
Arrayed as for her bridal, with the sun, 
To seek an enemy's lodge ? I knew the dame, 
A brave kind lady, but in sentiment 
A Royalist outspoken from the soul; — 
Our boasted gem strayed to this treasury 
Of treason, with her lover hovering nigh 
In ardent circles from the English camp. 
Perchance prepared to speed with sudden 

wing 
To pluck it thence and wear it on his heart 
Before her friends and mine — the feeble few 
Who held the fort — for 'twas a conquered 

land ! 
What spirit had lured her forth at such a time 
Of watch and danger? Was it possible 
She dreamed to quit the shelter of the camp. 
And home and friends and all the gallant 

guard 
Of hearts and weapons leagued in her defence, 
For that dark tract of wilderness, beset 
By such too-well-known perils — all for a sight 
Of one mad boy in uniform ! Alas, 
If she had only known ! Had only known ! 
Had but her feet kept their old paths that 
day! 

A wild sound broke upon me, like a peal 
Of cannon to a soldier in his dreams 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 25 

Calling him up to battle, ere the light. 

A sullen crash of rifles overhead 

Tore up the air around me, as a gale 

Rips a strained tent; then rose a cry so wild, 

So' savage that my heart stopped at the sound 

An instant in its wonted harmony, 

Then leapt with one wild impulse, and a 

shock 
That rocked the brain in its strong citadel. 
Ah, well I understood that fatal cry — 
The horrible cry all mad and animal. 
The wild dishevelled courier of surprise 
And all the rush and tumult of the pack ! 
Out from the bosom of a gaunt ravine 
It rose, that cleft the hilltop with a gash 
Of some old torrent-stroke of ages gone. 
Now rolling down a flood of fiery hate 
Upon my hapless comrades of the watch! 
Downward the cloud of battle swept the hill, 
Shooting its muffled lightnings as it went, 
With thunder and sound of voices hoarsely 

blent — 
Loud shouts and short sharp cries from here 

and there 
Where struck a shot the life, and laid on 

earth 
A soldier quivering. And on its edge. 
Now and again, lithe figures sprang to sight — 
And vanished where the hazels swathed the 

boles 
Of mighty trees; or caught in surging smoke. 
Paled struggling in that limbo like a dream. 



26 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

And oft there passed the fleeting pantomime 
Of clenched and struggling shapes that rolled 

on earth, 
With nimble limbs like serpents writhed and 

tossed, 
Knit in the last great grapple breast to breast. 

The first live soul to issue from that cloud 
Was a poor soldier flying from aloft, 
Wild-eyed, bareheaded, wounded, weapon- 
less, 
A meteor of blood and suffering. 
He fell, and gathering, rose and wavered oni, 
Now stumbling more than running toward 

the spot 
Where I stood fixed and straining. And he 

saw — 
He saw, and raised a feeble cry of cheer. 
But then a stream of flame broke from above 
And downward, and he stopped with staring 

eyes. 
An instant ere he sank in death before me, 
Pierced through his breast. Then rose his 

crouching foe 
And flamed at him like sanguine Lucifer, 
With cries of triumph, bearing high his blade 
To rend away the trophy of his deed. 
Then with its old impulsive eloquence 
My weapon rose and spoke ! and at the word 
Down rolled the heathen howling — clutching 

earth. 
And showering leaves in awful agony — 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 27 

Ah ! how the bright blood rainbowed from 

his breast: — 
A stroke well struck — alas, the only one 
That fate permitted me to deal that day ! 
For see ! The hanging cliff was all alive 
With gliding forms and fearful visages 
And streaming head-plumes! Then my soul 

affirmed 
The fated issue of that dark surprise 
x'\nd fight so quickly finished ; — naught alas, 
Save luckless death or capture to my friends. 
Whose weapons spoke no more, whose shouts 

were still. 
Whose enemies in wanton victory 
Ranged everywhere! One instant desperate 
Remained wherein to fly before the storm, 
Or else to stay and die amidst the storm — 
Such was the choice. With madness in my 

soul 
Yet loving life, I thrust my weapon by, 
That fate to many a foeman, and my friend 
i\pproved and true;— gift of my ancestor 
Whose deeds in former wars had made it 

famous. 
Famed fighter, famous weapon! — cast aside 
My ox-horn flask, and leathern pouch with 

balls. 
Plucked out the heavy war-axe from its rest 
And lingeringly released it from my hand. 
Till all disarmed save for one slender blade 
Clasped firm I stood; then glancing warily 



28 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

An instant, prying forth for shadowing 

forms, 
And naught discerning, slipped I down the 

path, 
Brushing the foliage lightly; then leapt out. 
Long, like a hunted buck when stretch the 

hounds 
Red-mouthed upon his track; and speeding 

raised 
My voice and rang aloud along the plain — 
"Fly for your lives ! The foe is at your 

doors ! 
Fly to the fort!" to warn the villagers. 
I never reached the fort, though, — luck, or 

fate, 
Or some ill influence that dogs mens' steps. 
Had writ me down unfortunate that day ! 
For scarce my feet found me amid the plain, 
Running with every nerve stretched, arms 

a-play. 
My spirits up and dancing, courage high. 
And passion all enlisted for the heat, — 
When there ! a hazel thicket by the course 
Let out three lurking heathen on my front. 
And snapped the glorious race short! One 

that hopped 
Out of his covert like an evil toad — 
A hunched black creature with malignant 

eye — 
Up-swung a firearm and the flame sprang 

out; 
And I sank down upon my wounded limb 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 29 

Stung by the hissing missile, for a moment 
Surprised and shocked, not knowing well my 

hurt. 
As boys a sapling under some fierce gust, 
Doubled to earth — to spring again and 

stand, 
I fell to rise again; and met my foes 
With one slim blade, hot-hearted for the 

strife 
Of skill and warrior courage to the end. 
But ere a blow w^as struck, amid the pause 
Defiant, filled with flying hateful glances, 
A tall wild warrior limbed like Hercules, 
With boyish gesture flung his weapon down. 
And lightly leaping, colled himself about 

me, 
Tying my limbs in tangles of lithe strength. 
And bowed me down to earth. As a har- 
vester 
Grapples a sheaf of maize within his arms, 
And struggling, binds Its summit with a band 
Of twisted straw, then bowing swings It clear 
And lays it with its fellows on the earth. 
So on the earth, unfellowed, laid he me. 
There his grim mate with foul and greedy 

hands 
Bound fast my limbs with cords, that 'twixt 

his teeth 
Hung loosely dangling, waiting such an end. 
Then both arose and looked upon me there 
In mocking triumph. Then the hunchback 

plucked 



30 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

My dagger from the grass, and whetted it 
Upoiii his earth-soiled moccasini awhile, 
Eyeing me as a butcher eyes a sheep 
Laid bound for slaughter. Ceasing, up he 

sprang, 
And flashed the steel in my eyes, extravagant 
In cries and shows of triumph. 

So 
I lay 
Bound in the presence of my enemies. 

It was a thing most wonderfully done! 
I never saw aught like it in the world. 
Amid the arts and cunning slights of force 
Long practiced in the handicraft of war. 
My heart cried shame upon me then, and 

tears. 
The first to dim my eyes for many a day, 
Flowed to reproach my fallen estate^ — that I, 
A famous wrestler in my college days, 
A man of action, and on many fields 
Since then triumphant in my power of limb, 
Should yield at last my prestige in the art 
To that wild fellow of the woods, untaught. 
With naught but simple nature for his friend. 
And yet amid my sore humility 
I did admire the deed ! It pleased me so 
That I forgave the fellow on the spot 
With all my heart, it was so bravely done! 
A few swift words in their ungentle tongue. 
Complete with glancing eyes and waving 

arms, 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 31 

Passed 'twixt my captors. Then the giant 

took 
His weapons, beckoned to his chosen mate, 
A wild and sinewy creature like a wolf, 
Who followed; and the pair with secret steps 
Passed silently from sight. And then ap- 
proached 
Once more that bunch of deep deformity, 
And cut away my feet-bands with a stroke. 
And wide they flew recoiling at the touch; 
And with the hateful menace of a spear ^ 
And horrid-mingled speech, he bade me rise, 
Pointing with crooked finger up the slope. 
And I arose and like a tortoise passed 
Before him up the track and o'er the way 
My feet erewhile had spurned like a proud 

stag, 
Printing the outrolled tablet of the path 
With characters of blood; and all the while 
My brain a fire, my spirit brewing gall 
I labored on; and soon with limbs rebound 
Lay, scarce a man, beneath the ancient pine 
Where gushed the spring of crystal from the 

bank — 
A vein of pearl by moonshine, but in the sun 
A darting snake of gold that rustling ran 
Down briary cleft of hillslope to the plain. 
I lay and watched it from my rugged couch 
Awhile, half-pleased and soothed to see it 

flow. 
Bearing my heart a moment on its wave. 



32 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Soon sounds were heard above me on the 

rock, 
Voices confused, and shufflle of moving feet, 
And ring of arm that clanged on fellow arm 
Flung rudely down. But all I heard un- 
moved. 
Being downcast and captive. But my guard 
Grew restless at the signs, and flew aside 
Often to view the scene, as oft returning 
With looks more dark and vicious; till at. last, 
O'ercome by restless longing like a child, 
Fretful at aught that bars him from his wish, 
He vanished up the crag, leaving behind 
His spear and one wild warning glance of 

eye 
Shot backward as he passed. I gave no look, 
But lay until his last limb disappeared 
Withdrawn across the brink. 'Twas then 

with pain 
And utmost struggle that I rose and stood, 
Supported by the pine tree's friendly 

strength — 
How burned the cords like fire into my 

flesh— 
And looked at level range across the plot 
Brought even with my gaze — It was a sight 
To stir the soul with wrath, disgust and 

hate — 
To fill the heart with curses, not with prayers, 
The mouth with prayers that were naught 

else but curses; 
To wake a drowsing demon in the breast 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 33 

To thrills of fiendishness that puts to shame 
The thing divine in man. A company 
Foul-handed with the blood of gallant souls 
Were there and flourishing around a heap 
Of battle-trophies, which their greedy hands 
Had stripped from slaughtered bodies of 

brave men 
And they my comrades ! Garments soaked 

in blood 
Were there, and many a weapon with its steel 
Dimmed by the dust of battle, as it fell 
From some strong soldier's grasp, struck in 

mid-heat 
Of fiery onset. One slim blade I saw 
Snapped at the point and crimsoned to the 

hilt! 

And in the throng were some that crawled 

about 
On wounded limbs, the furnace of their hate 
Seven times more heated by the fires of pain. 
And oft some frenzied spirit in the band 
Would pluck a loathly object from his girdle. 
And shake the fearful trophy in the air. 
Whereon responsive cries broke from the 

throng. 
Filling my spirit with loathing. Back I sank 
Upon the kindlier earth, all sick at heart. 
And all my soul offended at the sight. 
The ring of coming footsteps now were 

heard 



34 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Climbing the path behind me, though the 

leaves 
Hung thick before the way, and mixed o'er- 

head. 
Shut out the panting climbers from my sight. 
A hope my soul had harbored while I lay 
Helpless, with prayers for vengeance on our 

foes. 
Sprang forth alive at these oncoming sounds. 
And broke the dear news to my panting 

heart — 
This was the looked-for succor from the 

camp — 
Alas, that never came ! The foliage 
That draped with green the shining vestibule 
Of that resplendent temple so defiled, 
Was shaken for a space as by a breeze. 
Then parted, and my conqueror appeared 
With some behind him. It was then I saw 
The first true act of savage gallantry 
My eyes had ever seen. A step aside 
He made and paused, and gracefully with 

his hand 
Drew back the plaited foliage from the path. 
And let two ladies through. The first that 

came 
Was Jennie, issuing from the tender shade 
In all her maiden glory; — like the sun 
O'ermounting In his course victorious 
Through heaven the cloud that barred his 

early beams. 
The morning exercise had spread a flush 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 35 

Of rosy warmth upon her fairest face; 
Her bonnet now was off, and from her 

head — 
That strong proud head she carried like a 

queen — 
Even from her low brow backward o'er her 

crown 
And down her back until its crinkled gold 
Straying, trailed up the pathway as she came, 
Rolled down in glorious billows that great 

hair. 
I looked upon her face — ^there was no shade 
Of fear that marred the glory of its charm, 
But in her lovely eyes, and on her cheeks 
A fire of splendid Indignation burned; 
And on her lips, proud-curled and beautiful, 
Abode a soul of scorn unspeakable, 
The judgment of a proud Imperial heart 
Offended. . . . Painfully behind her came 
Eler friend and hostess, wearily ascending, 
Above whose shoulder as she came two eyes 
Shone ominous of a captor at her back. 
Young eyes see all; — and so the maiden's 

glance 
Sweeping the space soon found me where I lay 
Bound and unmanned against the tree's wide 

trunk; 
And swift of step, defiant of restraint. 
She came and looked and knew, then kindly 

smiled, 
And spoke with maiden diffidence and said — 



36 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

"May I speak for a moment? — we are cap- 
tives 
And need to cheer each other. How those 

bonds 
Must hurt you, drawn with such Inhuman 

rigor; 
Had I a knife, Vd cut them in the face 
Of yonder savages, and let you go. — 
You might flee down the hillside and escape." 
"Not while you staid a captive, gentle maid," 
The soldier In me answered; and her eyes 
Sparkled at that, while warmer glowed her 

cheek. 
And then she bent above me till some locks 
Of her great hair fell forward o'er her breast 
And touched my own with blessing; then 

spoke low 
"Fear not for us at all, we shall not suffer! 
These creatures dare not harm us If they 

would ; 
Their master is the English Commandant, 
Cousin and friend of my kinswoman here; — 
They take us to the English camp : — farewell ; 
When safely there we shall remember you." 
O tender light of woman's sympathy 
Shining In that dark place ! 

A 

moment more 
And all were passing onward up the path 
Around the rock's blunt angle to the plot, — 
A rugged path for tender feet to tread, 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 37 

Rouch, hard, and stony cruel ! — O 1 wished — 
I wished and longed, but could not, being 

bound, 
To ease them on — it was but natural. 
One loves to smooth the pathway for a friend ! 

And as they vanished, winding round the 

rock, 
I felt that awful sinking of the soul 
Once more surprise me, that I oft had felt. 
Sometimes on battle fields, sometimes in camp. 
And often on the water of the deep. 
Forerunning some disaster, woe or death 
To' one I loved the best in all the world. 
^Tis strange how often we are made to bear 
In terror in the secret of our souls 
Life's dark calamities ere they befall. 

They gained the plot and halted. Then a 

shout 
Vociferous from savage throats arose 
In greeting to their chief. And then the chiefs, 
Grave and subdued, apart upon the rock. 
Assembled in dark conclave, — motionless 
Except for lips and eyes unresting moved 
In energy of speech, or glances shot 
Oft toward the fort with looks significant, 
And oft upon the captives. And among them. 
First in authority and eloquence, 
Presided my wild captor — Wyondotte, 
Surnamed The Panther, terror of whose deeds 
With torch and tomahawk had filled the land 



3S DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

With a brood of shuddering rumors. . . . 

Brief the council 
And soon dissolved ; and mixing with the men 
By mingled speech and sign, the chiefs made 

known 
Their purpose. Then stood forth two men of 

brawn. 
But mild, and innocent of battle stain 
Or show of human trophy, and addressed 
In broken speech but still unbroken signs. 
And not ungentle art and emphasis. 
The elder captive, pointing toward the north 
With often outstretched arm and liberal air 
Of signihed assurance. But the dame 
Returned no word nor moved, but stood bow- 
ed down 
As if absorbed in her calamity. 
And oft she sighed and deep, like one o'er- 

spent 
With toil or utmost grief. A lirtle while 
She so remained, and then she raised her 

head. 
With stem and flashing eyes set on her foes, 
And opening at once her heart and lips. 
Poured out with mar\-elous master}^ of tongue 
A shower of indignation on the band. 
Till even^ one shrank awestruck from that 

speech 
Whose fire and thrust wrought havoc with 

their wits. 
And overthrew each warrior where he stood 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 39 

With wondering admiration. Cowed, sub- 
dued. 

By such unwonted thunder in their ears. 

They changed as it went on their art and 
craft 

To win obedience to their design 

From this reluctant captive. — cringed and 
crawled 

In awkward forms of savage blandishment. 

And flatteries unpracticed by their kind. 

"O you are gallant warriors, every one! 
How nobly you have triumphed over us 
Weak women ! In the house where you sur- 
prised us 
Remain a black slave and a babe concealed. 
Draw out your bravest warriors and send 

forth 
And bring them, and complete your victory*! 
You cowardly base creatures I who from am- 
bush 
Of tree or rock shoot unsuspecting men 
You fear to meet in battle I Had we arms 
Other than nature gave us — gun or sword — 
We t^o, and women, here upon this rock 
Would turn upon you. cowards that you are. 
And beat you back am.ong the bears and 

wolves 
Who drove you out to war on weaker flesh I 
You say you will not slay us I — we believe 
vou. 



40 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Women cannot resist you, wherefore slay 

them ? 
Better to sell them In your master's camp 
For gold with which the deeper to debase 
Your lives, already baser than the dregs 
And scum of living nature ! — no, not sell, 
But yield for ransom — that's a better phrase, 
But that is white, a turn of English speech 
Coined by your masters. Call it something 

else! 
Has your rich tongue no term for such a 

deed? 
Go with you ? No ! You cannot budge me 

hence 
One step against my will ; and carry me 
Ye cannot. Nature has provided me 
A frame ye cannot stir ! . . . And you 

w^ould part 
This dear child from me, lest we being to- 
gether 
Should comfort one another! I have heard 
Of beings so Inhuman, but till now 
I never looked on such ... I cannot 

hope 
To vie In talk with you, and speak out all 
My heart about you. Nature has withheld 
From me the gift of speech, — I am content 
Since she has favored you therewith ! Talk on, 
And let your virtues blossom in your speech 
That wither In your acts ! . . . And If 

I go 
Pray whither will you lead me? But why 

ask! 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 41 

Do I not know already? Where Is gold 
But in the Enghsh camp wherewith to buy 
Unfortunate captives? — you would take me 

thither. 
Beelzebub was aye a blunderer, 
And you do honor to your ancestor 
By keeping his tradition ! Take me then 
Forthwith at his command ! My ancestor 
He had a kinsman who was ancestor 
Of a certain English soldier, commandant 
Now of his Majesty's batallions camped 
But one league hence. And I his kinswoman, 
And loyal subject of his liege, the king 
Of England and these glorious provinces. 
Consent to be led to him, bound and shamed, 
A miserable captive! Your reward 
Will doubtless much surprise you when it 

comes ! — 
You do not understand? Oh, well, I said 
Lead on, but slowly as you can. Much gold 
Shall pay you for my safe delivery. 
Farewell sweet Jenny; it Is hard to part 
Thus torn by force asunder; but be brave, 
We'll meet for better luck in yonder camp!" 

Thus their persuasions triumphed, and the 

pair 
Assumed her escort, moving leisurely. 
And sought the broader highway pointing 

east. 
Along the steep hill's foot; and so were gone. 
And as they passed, my eyes from the pursuit 



42 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Flew back to the rock where hovered all my 

fears 
Like birds among the branches, when the 

snake 
Comes crawling toward the nest. Upon that 

rock 
Conspicuous amid the wilderness, 
With those wild scenes and faces witnessing, 
7'hese children of two races, white and red. 
The maiden and the warrior, with a sword 
Extinguishing between them, stood apart 
And gazed upon each other. . . . May 

his race 
Melt from the white man's march as sank his 

gaze 
Before those eyes of steadfast innocence 
Judging his lawless soul. 

Meanwhile 
the sun 

All bright till then and shining in his strength, 
Making a world of magic with his beams, 
Suddenly darkened ; and a wind arose. 
Unheard before, and wailing filled the wood 
With mournful tones, and sinking swept the 

ground, 
Shaking the leaves and trailers on the stones, 
And whispering round the tree-trunks drearily 
As if it knew and grieved. Amid the trees 
The merry birds ceased suddenly their songs 
And fled with cries into the darkened air. 
Borne far in startled bevies out of sight. 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 43 

Away In forest depths some wandering wolf 
Howled twice and ceased; and some distress- 
ed beast 
Within a far-off farmyard raised its voice 
And lowed disconsolate to the darkened 

sky. 
And through my life and blood a dull chill 

crept ; 
And o'er my soul a deep foreboding cloud 
Closed by degrees, and was not lifted more 
Till that dark evil drawing to a head 
Discharged itself In blood upon the land. 

There rose an Instant tumult on the rock, 
Like shouts of drunken soldiers when a town 
Is sacked, and riot roars amid the streets, 
Urged on by lust of plunder and vile 

drink 
Concocted for man's evil. And I saw 
The storm of lawless passion break and rage, 
'Mid brutal violence, and strife of tongues 
Not wanting coarsest poison; eddying gusts 
Distinct with writhing forms and tossing 

arms; 
And round the circle playing here and there 
The sullen lightning from hate-heated eyes. 
And stayed against my faithful tree I stood, 
While all the man within me cried aloud 
In urgent protestation 'gainst my bonds 
No power of mine could rend, — although I 

strove 
With strength by passion trebled. All In vain ; 



44 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

The cord was trusty, and the knot stood sure 
Against all might. Ah, had my eyes been 

swords, 
My heart, my soul, my impulse deadly spears, 
What tide of slaughter then had swept the 

plot, 
What vengeance washed it clean of every 

foe! 
And meantime is the midst the maiden stood, 
Like some large-molded statue aureoled 
That lifted up in fair tranquility. 
Blanched a degree, but steadfast, contem- 
plates 
The passionate gusts that flourish round its 

base. — 
A moment ! — Then upon the storm's black 

rim 
A weapon slowly rose with level gleam. 
Hung there an instant set and ominous 
Ere the wild shot screamed out. A leaping 

flame, 
A gush of livid smoke, and I beheld 
The maid start suddenly, as if surprised 
At the hurt done her; saw her shining head 
Drop with its crown of glory on her breast; 
I heard a long deep sigh as of a soul 
Passing to quiet rest ; and sinking down 
She lay a lovely ruin on the earth. 
All overflowed with her great wave of hair. 
And then I saw a hatchet whirl in air 
And fall upon that poor defenseless head 
Scarce yet Insensible, — yea and I saw 



DEATH OF MAID McCREA 45 

A savage hand twined In those sacred locks, 
A hell-lit face above, a glitter of steel, 
And then — and then I saw no more ! I barred 
With burning lids my eyes against the sight. 
And turned and laid me on the earth and 

wept, — 
As I weep now ! Forgive me if I weep ; 
It helps the heart to grieve a little while; 
The sluice of tears drains off the flood of woe. 
And saves the heart from too much mem- 
ory, — 
The memory of that deed unparalleled 
In all the annals of this bloody land 
Since history began ! 

O there goes forth 
A cry that shall be quiet never more, 
A voice to speak unto the years unborn — 
A voice proclaiming judgment, and a power 
To trouble thrones, cast reputations down, 
Beyond wide seas, in other alien lands 
Our arms can never reach, our laws remold, 
Our justice rectify. That voice was heard 
A war-cry thrilling through the patriot souls 
On Saratoga's field; and flying on 
It sounded wild! o'er Yorktown, and gave 

back 
The eagle to our hosts. On ocean's plain 
It sounded solemnly amid the roar 
Combined of wind and wave and bellowing 

guns, 
Filled with heroic madness the strong souls 



46 DEATH OF MAID McCREA 

Of seamen, till another answering cry, 
Again of victory, ran on the waves. 
Bearing the news to every land o'er sea 
That Freedom stooping from her spendid 

heights 
Had lifted up our country to her realm. 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

The lamp is out long since upon that play ; 
The actors have departed one by one 
Home through the darkness. I alone remain, 
A straying shape upon the fading edge 
Of that receding drama. Out of time 
And out of place amid the alien clash 
Of newer interests, I stay awhile, — 
A foreigner amid the now and new, — 
Until the tale is told I only know, 
Who only live to tell it — then I go. 

You who were pleased to listen for awhile 
To' my wild story of the gentle girl 
Dead in the dimness of the lonesome woods. 
Listen — more briefly — to its kindred tale 
And climax, named the Lover's Tragedy. 

Remember, when again with sorrowing eyes 
I looked on things around me from my place, 
All that mysterious darkness had withdrawn. 
Again the sun burned full and warm in 

heaven, 
Once more the birds sang in a thousand trees; 
The squirrel skipped and sported on his limb. 
And cast the empty refuse of his feast 
With clattering jibes upon me where I lay, 
Then sped with nimble scampering out of 

sight, 

49 



so THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

Amused at his own wit and my disgrace. 
A tuning breeze hummed quaintly in my ears 
Making the leaves shake lightly, while the sun 
Speckled the rich turf under them with 

gold. — 
Nature, who closed her eyes on that dark 

deed. 
Refusing to behold it, now was gay. 
And made her Sabbath music as before. 

Ah me ! I scarcely knew what next they did, 
Save that they spared me; — spared my 

broken life. 
While they had rent my heart and stunned 

my brain, 
And stabbed my suffering spirit through and 

through 
With twice the pains of death. They loosed 

my bonds. 
And bade me rise — not spitefully indeed, 
Even a little pitifully it seemed — 
And I arose and made attempt to walk 
With such poor progress as on limbs be- 
numbed 
A man might make along so rough a way. 
And I was stunned in head and intellect. 
And moved as one who walks amid a sleep, 
Scarce feeling pain or pleasure. Everything 
Seemed strangely dim and dusky round me 

now. 
And faint and dream-like. All the pleasant 

sounds 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 51 

And gladsome sights that charmed the sum- 
mer wood 
Came to me through some baffling medium 
That cloaked the senses. 

So we passed 
along, 
My captors strangely temperate with me 
In my loose pace and stumblings to and fro 
With feet benumbed and heedless. Yet they 

kept 
Ever beside me, gliding dim and dark 
Like demons in a nightmare — creeping, 

creeping, 
So dumb and constant; it was terrible — 
Truly they seemed like devils ! 

Slow we went 
Under the cooling shade, o'er leaf-floors 

spread 
To deaden more our footfalls; till ere long 
Around a thrust of tangled torrent-bed 
We broke upon the dame and her tall guards, 
Trav'lers more slow than we upon the road 
That ran we knew not whither. Yet was she 
Still bright of eye and strenuous of soul. 
And trod complainingless upon her way. 
I thought she paled a little when she saw 
Our band with but one prisoner in the midst. 
And that the one least present in her 

thoughts, — 
Perhaps she questioned me by some mute 

sign, 



52 THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

But I was stunned and dreaming, knowing 

naught, 
And she bore bravely onward as before. 

At length we reached a cabin hid in woods, 
Log-built and brown, with hospitable look, 
A forest inn with loungers round the place, — 
White men and red who wakened as we 

came. 
And gathered close and gazed, but nothing 

said, — 
And dogs and children playing round the 

porch. 
And here we stayed and rested from our toil. 
Took food, and such rough comfort as we 

might 
Being downcast and captive and reserved 
For what more ill we knew not; — yes, and 

I— 
At least I cared not! Earth had now for 

me 
No fate I cared to question or to know, 
So weary was my life of all things here 
In this the sickness of a soul o'erwrought. 
'Mid comings and 'mid goings all that day 
Of horse and foot — the kinds that use the 

paths 
Through wilds of scarce-delivered solitudes 
In new unordered lands, we staid at rest. 
And unmolested, save they suffered not 
The grace of speech between us. And all 

night, 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 53 

Through supernatural hush within, without, 
We slept, and woke and sorrowed, slept 

again, 
And woke at last into another day. 

Soon as the morn was perfect came our guards 
Around us, while we ate our early meal ; 
And when 'twas done they led us forth again 
In silence to the highway, where we turned 
Once more our faces toward the haunted tract 
Where sunk in woods lay deep our unknown 
goal. 

And now our captors grew more frank and 

kind. 
Somewhat more human and articulate. 
And not ungently strove to cheer us up. 
Speaking in words and signs of camps and 

friends, 
Of ransoms and of coming liberty, — 
Themes, as they thought, to buoy a captive 

up. 
And light an eye-gleam In the senseless skull 
Of rank misfortune ; — unto me all vain. 
Too heart-sick to rejoice at anything; 
Too worn with all this seeming senseless 

strife, 
Of all this noisy war of arms and tongues, 
These endless themes of battles, battles, 

battles, 
Of marches, sallies, camps and victories 



54 THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

Forever on men's tongues ! — sick of the 

land — 
Sick of the land and all its miseries, 
And even of life and all that life disclosed! 
And my companion in captivity, 
She was too angry still to heed them much, 
Or answer if she heeded. 

When the sun 
Burned through the loftier tree-tops on the 

right 
And glanced upon the path with bashful rays, 
And well nigh half the summer day was done. 
We broke the pact of that green lonely world, 
And saw the land sink suddenly, engulfed 
Amid a tract of cedar-shadowed soil — 
The scarce-healed wound of some old torrent- 
stroke 
In some far time when all the world was new. 

And there beneath us lay the English camp. 
Dotting a low knoll with its clustered tents 
Like cones of fleece amid the blackened wreck, 
And brown earth scorched by fire. Around 

were walls 
Of cedar-shade impenetrably wild 
And dim and lonesome. 'Twas a pretty sight, 
Touching the soul with a reviving sense 
Of cheerful life and human fellowship 
Succeeding that dim march with souls bowed 

down 
Under the pressure of captivity. 
And as I looked it seemed as if I saw. 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 55 

Instead of tents that sheltered mortal foes, 
A camp of angels with celestial tents 
Pitched in the heart of the great wilderness, 
Gleaming a moment, soon to be withdrawn. 

Our captors shouting, then discharged in air 

Their ready weapons; for their march was 
done. 

Their danger past, their triumph nigh com- 
plete. 

And from the camp's rear rose an answering 

And there came streaming forth a troop of 

friends — 
Friends of our foes — God help us, not of 

ours ! — 
With cries and leapings, like a pack of dogs 
Flying with yelps and gam.bolings of joy 
To meet their kind returning from a raid 
Upon some innocent sheep-fold, bathed in 

blood 
And mad with gust of slaughter — so they 

came. 
A file of soldiers too were soon on foot. 
Flashing in steel and scarlet up the path; 
And as they came the clamorous dogs grew 

mute. 
Ceased their vile gambolings and slunk away 
O'erawed and cowed. And those whose game 

we were 
Submitted while the King's men filing round 
Enclosed and drew us from them. Silently 



56 THE LOVER^S TRAGEDY 

With pompous tramp they drew us down the 

slope, 
And round amid the white tents on our way, 
To where a log-reared cabin capped with 

bark 
Appeared, the center of the clustered tents 
Flecking the knoll. A sentinel in the path 
Stood by at mute attention as we passed, 
And eyed us with unmoving countenance. 
Behind us trailed a line of shadowy forms. 
Suffered to pass with that mute tolerance 
That shadows claim which dog us every- 
where ; — 
Nay, worse,> — scorned and detested, so it 

seemed. 
With silent and significant neglect, 
By these their bounden patrons, paymasters. 
And nominal fair friends. 

Ere long 
we stood 
About the door of the great general's lodge 
Commanding these strong legions- — men and 

arms, 
Marching with purple pride and waving flags 
To crush the weak and nigh dejected few 
Who bore the burden of this mighty cause — 
The freedom of the people — on their swords. 
The red guard parted right and left, and we 
Passed in between them through the open 

door. 
My captive friend and I ; and following still, 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 57 

Our captors, mute but watchful. Then the 

guard 
Formed and wheeled off, a sergeant proud 

and tall 
Stepping with solemn dignity behind. 

A low rude room it was wherein we stood, 
Divided in the midst by lagging folds 
Of royal curtains looped along their staff 
Like banners o'er an archway. All the walls 
Were cedarn beams yet shaggy with the bark 
Wherein they grew; and for a floor our feet 
Stood ankle-deep in bearskins loosely laid 
To hide the bare and black earth underneath. 
Around the place were banners, weapons, 

chests 
Carved, and with mighty clasps of brass 

thereon, 
Ancient, from over seas. There stood a desk 
Whereat a pale clerk in half-uniform 
Sat busy working at his documents, 
His head upon one side, with slanting eyes 
Upon the lines formed by his running quill. 
Lie quit his task, half turning in his seat, 
Viewing us sharply; smiled then half in scorn 
At such extreme dejection, "Ah," he said, 
"Prisoners, I see! Go, orderly, report 
Tw^o prisoners to the general, and return." 
And turning to his documents again 
Wrote on. And the proud soldier at the door 
Obeyed, his saber clanking as he went. 



58 THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

Then passed a scene I never shall forget — 
The strangest play considering time and place 
My eyes had ever seen. . . . There en- 
tered now 
Into tht ttnt and circle through the door 
Two nxn, pre-eminent by port and garb 
O'er all the sorts encountered on our way, 
Whose very air and attitude dispensed 
The ether of authority. — The one, 
Troubled of eye and careworn, moving slow; 
The other young, prince-like, with flashing 

eyes, 
From whom flowed forth a heat Inpetuous 
That signified a warrior sound of heart — 
A fine dark fellow ! 

When within the lodge 
They stood ere long, the elder from his place 
Looked round about him, listlessly It seemed, 
And scornfully reluctant toward the the task 
He saw full grown before him; till his eyes 
Within their narrow circuit of survey 
Found out the cowering dame. — Then all 

was changed ! 
A soldier's lot finds out a man surprised 
Full often; but surprises such as this 
Seldom indeed : 

"Why Madam !" he exclaimed, 
And "General," she replied, distinct and 

short. 
And furious from that greeting there arose 
A storm of tongue and temper unapproached 
In all my memory of wordy wars — 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 59 

The crown and flower of female rallery, 
Saved by just wrath from mere vulgarity 
Detestable to see. It was a sight, 
And not without its laughter, to behold 
That high commander, memorable of name, 
The court-be-dizened darling of the wars, 
Who never bowed before an enemy. 
Whipped in his tent by one wronged woman's 

tongue. 
And she his kinswoman from over seas, 
Bound with his cause in soul and sentiment, 
A royalist outspoken from the heart ! 
A doting lion hungering for prey 
Had pounced upon and caught a lioness ! 
And now, Sir Lion, look you out for claws ! 
Ay, and the claws were there; and suddenly 
Unsheathed, made havoc seven times more 

complete 
Than sudden swords of alien and adversaries 
Whom courage might o'ercome. 

"Sir, 
stand and look! 
This is a precious piece of gallantry, 
Right worthy of a royal ofl^cer 
And gentleman !" 

'Twas thus the gale began. 
And gathered power and tumult as it blew, 
Drowning all apposition. 

"By my word," 
"Upon the honor of a gentleman;" . . , 
"Madam, I swear!" . . . "Permit me 

but a word;" 



6o THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

"I never knew — indeed how could I 

know;" ... 
"I beg you stop and let me say a word;" . . . 
Twigs in the wind ! 'Twas wonderful to note 
What gusts of words, what flashes scintellant 
Of keen sarcastic lightning; shattering bursts 
Of most authentic thunder; what sharp 

thrusts 
Of darting irony dealt thick and fast, 
One following on another like a glance, 
Poured from the fiery heart and stormy lungs 
Of that great titaness! 

And ended all 
In one great cry that filled the tent and shrill- 
ed, 
Piercing all ears — 

"Oh there stand 
murderers here ! 
Ask them of Jenny — ask of Maid McCrea!" 
And then the true warm woman in her heart 
O'ercame at last her rage;, and she sank down 
Silent, and like a woman all in tears. 
And then the tongue-stunned chief, remem- 
bering 
His breeding and his magnanimity. 
Brought forth a cloak of folds voluminous 
And gallantly as ever soldier could 
Laid it about the shoulders of the dame, 
Beseeching her to wear it for a time 
Till, in his thought, a fitting robe be found 
To better clothe her form. And she arose 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 6i 

Muttering short thanks, and shaking down 

the folds 
Sat down again, her soul immersed in thought. 
And then the clerk, whose pen had quit its 

task 
Upon the outbreak of that wordy war. 
His eyes meanwhile brimful of sparkhng fun 
And overbubbling humor scarce restrained, 
Resumed his quill and scratched on as before. 
The general, mild and all obsequious. 
Complacent with his tact and management, 
Stood rubbing hands vivaciously. Behind, 
Unmoved — impervious, ranged along the 

wall, 
The Indians stood like shadows darkly 

limned, — 
But shadows with live eyeballs, now and then 
Slanting their dusky glimmer, half at rest; — 
Patient, on foot taking their wonted ease. 

And every mind took on a sense of calm, 
And every heart conceived a welcome touch 
Of human fellowship ; and every face 
Softened to looks of comfort and content 
At this subsidence ; — every face save one. 
And that was white and anxious, as the man 
Moved ceaselessly about the tent's curt space, 
Restless of eye. A panther might have 

moved 
Thus while the brush stirred with the hunters' 

steps 
Closing the hunt around him. As he paced 



62 THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

His glances played in an incessant search 
Betwixt the dame and those dumb witnesses 
Ranged 'gainst the wall with looks inscrutible. 
Was this the soldier whom my eyes had mark- 
ed 
Just now with admiration — princely then 
With all a graceful carelessness — but now 
With soul strained like a bowstring while it 

trembles 
Tense for the shaft ? A little this went on ; — 
Then burst the prisoned soul forth into speech 
And action, shattering the shallow crust 
Of calm o'erlying that profoundest pit 
Of heart-convulsion. For, with eyes on fire, 
Great in the splendor of his agony, 
He strode to meet this last of enemies — 
The knowledge hid to master him and throw 
His life adrift upon the waste of years. 
Swift was the stride that brought him to the 

dame, 
Fierce almost was the passion of the hand 
He laid upon her shoulder. And he stood 
Above her muffled shape with burning eyes, 
And in her ear with note imperious 
Heard by all ears beside. 

"Tell me of her; 
Speak quickly, I command you — What of 

her!" 
And then the answer came, but not from lips 
Of any speaking creature. While he spoke 
Three wild and warlike figures foul with dust 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 63 

And soil of darker stain, came gliding in 
And pausing rolled their restless eyeballs 

round; 
Silent, constrained in that high company. 
Yet fierce with gleams of triumph breaking 

through. 
And as the soldier turned and faced them 

there, 
One, a wild creature, brawny like a wolf. 
Raised a strange thing he had, held it aloft. 
And with a foul forefinger significantly 
Tapped it and smiled — a grim inhuman 

smile — 
EvTn for a savage strange and hideous. 
Then from behind there rose a fearful cry, 
A woman's cry of anger and despair; 
As when a lioness, returned from hunt 
All day for prey to feed her little ones 
Hungry within their covert, comes at night 
And scents the bodies of her little ones 
Slaughtered by hunters; and in rage and 

grief 
Peals through the wastes her desolated cry. 
So cried the dame and rose, her mighty frame 
Aquiver, and her eyes aflame, her hand 
Pointing — "O, see ! — That is our darling's — 

that — 
O they have slain — have slain our innocent: — 
O were there but a man here to avenge 
That deed ! And then by burning Instinct 

spurred 
She moved upon the savage; — needless now, 



64 THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

Because there stood a man and lover there, 
David, beloved by the gentle girl 
So loved — then martyred now immortalized ! 
"That thing my darling's — that — " he stood 

and said 
In mournful echo of the words the dame 
Had cried from out her stormy agony. 
And thus he stood and gazed bewildered 

there — 
Bewildered for a moment, but no more ! 
For then there fell and sure and sudden 

stroke 
That rolled the savage gasping to the floor, 
Where like a whirlwind passed a furious 

strife 
Between those fiery warriors w^hite and red; 
One bent on vengeance deadly in its aim, 
And one, with wily art and ready tact 
Evading that one end. From side to side 
They over and over rolled, until the tent 
Shook, and the bearskins flew this way and 

that 
Among the circling spectators, disturbed 
With panic, this way dodging and then that. 
To shun the writhing bodies. Thus the strife 
Went on; and when 'twas finished there arose 
A soldier breathless, haggard, wild and torn, 
And in his white right hand that fearful 

gage- 
That fearful, beauteous gage of strife locked 

fast — 
The maiden's crown of glory, her bright hair I 



THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 65 

And then he staggered panting through the 

lodge, 
And found a seat and sat, his face bowed 

down 
And sunken in his hands in utter woe. 
And there he staid awhile; then stirred and 

passed 
A hand across his brow, and o'er his face, 
And groaned aloud in searching agony. 
Like an unresting spirit for a time 
He sat and stirred:— then suddenly arose 
And groped toward the tent-door, till an arm 
Was lent in pity, and he leaned on that. 
And passed from sight, a broken ruined man. 

Once when that night I left my prison tent 
And stood within the moon's light, with the 

stars 
Above that secret deadly w^ilderness 
Flashing their kindly beacons from above; 
And the wind sighing mournful 'mid the tents. 
And a far creature crying in the depths — 
Upon the outmost edge of clustered tents 
Where the dark earth fell off to blacker 

shades 
Of dense morass with cedar crowned glooms, 
I saw within the sad flood of the moon 
A night-companioned wanderer pass my place, 
Who when he saw me standing slipped aside 
And sought the shelter of a distant tent. 

And thus forever wandering without rest, 



66 THE LOVER'S TRAGEDY 

From land to land, from place to place he 

goes, 
Companioned by his soul's deep memories; 
And for his eyes' sight, with him evermore — 
Inseparably present where he is, — 
Memorial glorious of his earthly love, 
T\\t maiden's crown of glory, her bright hair. 

And like as I beheld him on that night 
Shall he pass restless, lonely through the 

world. 
Till death's still tent receives him from the 

night. 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



DEC 21 1309 f 



iflHiiiiiiiniiim 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



015 863 492 2 



